


Quietly Shared

by strawberrypanda2



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Blink And You Miss It Slash, Everyone else is only mentioned in passing, Lots of Books, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn, but no actual straight up books named, they both think they're being creepy but they're actually just adorbs, vidic is that one asshole teacher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7154252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrypanda2/pseuds/strawberrypanda2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Person A (Desmond) of your OTP reading over the shoulder of Person B (Malik).</p><p>BONUS: They don’t know each other.</p><p>BONUS 2: B notices A reading and waits a bit before flipping the page.</p><p>BONUS 3: A is reading the page, but B is already done. B stares at A while they read.</p><p>BONUS ∞ : A is finished, but is puzzled as to why B isn’t turning the page. They look up, only to meet eyes with B.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quietly Shared

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I totally bastardized this prompt, but the slow burn was just too good to pass up. I actually had fun writing this. I can't explain why I love this ship so much. Anyway, I just needed to get back into writing since I essentially quit because depression convinced me that I suck at writing. Hopefully that isn't true.

Day 1: Monday

College is, invariably, a huge step for anyone. More so for Desmond, considering he never went to a regular school or learned the subjects any young adult was expected to know. A nervous pang twisted in Desmond’s gut as he slid into a small desk in the far back of the classroom. The desks were connected to their respective chairs, but too small to actually hold anything substantial so Desmond slid his sling backpack between his feet. Seconds later his fingers already began tapping away at the top of the desk and his eyes scanned the room. Just as he had asked himself the months following up to the semester, Desmond asked himself why he decided to apply to college. Technically, since he planned on remaining a bartender for the foreseeable future, Desmond didn’t really need to try his hand at college. It was probably just going to strain him financially and eat up all his free time. Not that his arguments against college really made him back out. No, once Desmond Miles committed himself to something, he stuck through it. Regardless of how terrified he was.

  
Except, Desmond still wondered how the manager convinced him to pursue a higher education despite the fact that he didn’t necessarily get the lower education. Having never been in a classroom for normal subjects, Desmond had no idea if he could even do well or if it would end up a spectacular failure like his entire childhood. A man that looked a few years older than Desmond quietly took the seat right in front of Desmond’s and pulled out a book. Slightly curious, but not willing to be that one person that kept bugging people while they were just trying to read, Desmond tilted his head to see what book the stranger was reading. Although Desmond couldn’t place the title or author, the cover made it pretty obvious it was a fiction book. Probably action if the man with a sword on the cover was any indication. With practiced ease, the stranger’s fingers found his page and he pulled open the book to whatever page he was on.

  
Rather than hold up the book, the stranger held it open on his desk and Desmond bit his lip before shaking his head. It was a little weird that he was basically staring over a complete stranger’s shoulder trying to read a single paragraph in a book he had never read before. Realizing that he had actually leaned forward to be creepy, Desmond forced himself to sit back and focus on something else. Like his rising dread. Pulling out his cell phone, Desmond checked the time. He still had another thirty minutes before class started. Desmond groaned quietly and shot Lucy a quick text asking her what he was thinking going to college. All of his nervous energy had him out the door early for fear of traffic or parking making him late for class. Instead, Desmond wound up entirely too early and nothing to do with his time. He kind of wished he had thought to bring a book like the stranger in front of him.

  
As soon as his cell phone rang, Desmond opened it up to read Lucy’s response. Ever the responsible friend, Lucy gave Desmond reassurances that he was smarter than he gave himself credit for and that he would be fine. Smiling, Desmond made sure to thank his blond friend. Coming from anyone else, Desmond would just consider the text empty platitudes, but Lucy always made it seem like she meant it. Knowing Lucy, she probably did. Checking the time again, Desmond was disappointed to see only five minutes had passed. For a split second, Desmond debated striking up a conversation with the man in front of him, but seeing him hunched over his book convinced Desmond not to. The few other students that were early like him all sat in the front, obviously the good student types. Another five minutes passed in silence before Desmond pulled out his headphones, courtesy of Rebecca on Christmas, and plugged them into his phone. The next twenty minutes passed with Desmond listening to iHeartRadio and trying not to stare over the stranger’s shoulder. When the teacher finally came in, a wizened old man that spoke with a sharp snap in his voice, the teacher dove right into a lecture foregoing any introductions beyond his name and expectations. Like the other students, Desmond was too busy scrambling for his notebook to think about the stranger and his book anymore.

* * *

 

Day 2: Wednesday

Desmond was even earlier than his first day of classes since he gave Lucy a ride to work. Alone in the empty classroom, Desmond put on his music again and began reading ahead for the assigned readings in the class. If the first day was any indication, getting behind on his work would destroy him. Another early bird walked in, but Desmond didn’t bother to look at the person until they sat right in front of him. Glancing up, Desmond saw that it was the same man (the short black hair that faded into a dark tanned neck his only clue) that sat in front of him on Monday. Again, the man pulled out a book, but this one was different. Curious, Desmond saw that it was the same author and the title and cover were similar to the last book the stranger brought in. A series? The man cracked open the book towards the end of the book and Desmond managed to read a few lines of conversation before the page turned. Startled, Desmond realized he was leaning forward to read the book over the stranger’s shoulders and sat back admonishing himself. He hated it when people read his stuff over his shoulder, yet here he was doing just that. Shaking his head, Desmond got back to his much less interesting reading for class.

  
An hour passed, with another half hour until class started, and the man closed his book and put it away. A few other students and trickled in and were quietly chatting, but Desmond paid them no mind. Instead, his eyes were glued to the broad back in front of him as the man pulled out yet another book. Blinking, Desmond realized that he probably just finished the previous book. Wow, that guy read fast. Glancing wryly at his own textbooks, Desmond wished he could read as fast. The new book was, again, the same author with a different yet similar title and cover. This time, Desmond managed to read most of the first page before the flow of text was broken by the page turning. Since he apparently wanted to read these books so much, Desmond wrote down the author’s name so he could see if he could find the books in his spare time. That, at least, felt somewhat less creepy than reading over a complete stranger’s shoulder.

* * *

 

Day 9: Friday

For three weeks Desmond was early to class every day. A routine began forming where Desmond was the first one to walk into the empty class, followed by the stranger that sat in front of him. Whatever Desmond was doing beforehand (typically homework for one of his classes) he wound up reading bits and pieces of the stranger’s book before reality kicked in and he went back to his work. So far, Desmond was pretty sure he never saw the same book twice, and he felt pretty envious of his classmate. Try as he might, Desmond spent so much of his time on his classes and work that he barely had any time to read for recreation. More than once, Desmond thought about introducing himself to the man in front of him but something about the set of the man’s shoulders as he read made Desmond go silent. He was always so focused on his book that Desmond felt like he would be interrupting or annoying should he speak up.

  
Actually, Desmond barely spoke to anyone in that class. The teacher, and Desmond was hoping to never take one of his classes again, taught a lecture-only style and Desmond left as soon as class was over for his next class. So his social interactions throughout most of his classes relied solely on reading books over a stranger’s shoulder. Admitting to that just made Desmond feel weird so he actively avoided thinking about it. Lucy was the only one of Desmond’s friends that knew about the books, and for good reason. If Shaun or Rebecca knew they would tease him mercilessly. As things stood, Desmond kind of regretted telling Lucy since she kept pushing him to just talk to the stranger. Between feeling like a creep and not really having the time to read the books, Desmond couldn’t see what possible reason he would do that for. What would he even say? “Hey Stranger. I’ve been looking over your shoulder for about three weeks now and you read some interesting looking books! Wanna… punch me in the fucking face because who does that?” Desmond sighed and dropped his head on his tiny desk.

  
It’s not like Desmond had trouble socializing. He was a bartender for Pete’s sake! Socializing was kind of what Desmond did. Yet the idea of talking to the guy that came into class after him and sat in front of him like clockwork was terrifying. It didn’t help that the guy looked like he could wipe the floor with Desmond. Just because he read books all the time did not mean he looked like he couldn’t handle himself in a fight. Professor Vidic stormed into the classroom (Vidic stormed everywhere) and like a switch was flipped, Desmond was pulling his headphones off and readying his pencil for another boring eighty minute lecture.

* * *

 

Day 23: Wednesday

Malik walked into class the same time he always did, not surprised to see a student there before him. The boy (or more accurately, young man) was always the first one in class, followed by Malik. As always, he sat in the very back of the class bent over a textbook with a notebook in his lap. Plain white headphones covered his ears as he frowned down at the book and wrote something into his notebook. When Malik first saw him, he worried the boy would be a lazy nuisance throughout class due to his age and appearance. For some reason, he still sat in front of the boy that first day of class, and quickly grew irritated when he felt a stare on the back of his neck. Instead of asking about his arm as Malik expected, the stare fell away and Malik was able to enjoy his book in peace. The next few weeks of class found Malik thinking about the boy sitting behind him. Every day he could feel a stare on the back of his neck, but he never heard a word from the boy. Like him, the boy had no friends in class and left as soon as Vidic released them.

  
Altair, ever the idiot, offered to beat some explanation of the boy’s behavior out of him. At the very least to get him to stop staring at Malik like a dolt, but Malik was quick to remind Altair that he could handle himself just fine. He also didn’t want to admit that part of the reason the stares bothered him was because the boy looked just like Altair, right down to the scar on his lip. So far the hardworking aura differentiated him from Altair, but Malik couldn’t handle it if he proved similar to Altair in his speech. One idiot was bad enough, two would turn Malik to murder. So Malik simply sat in front of the boy as he always did and ignored him in favor of his books. As soon as the book was open, that familiar stare settled on Malik’s back and he hunkered down under its weight. With midterms coming up, Malik could feel his ever-present irritation bubble closer to the surface than usual. He never worried about his work or his grades, as he was confident in his studying, but that didn’t mean he was any less stressed than the average student.

  
Shifting to the side in the hopes of breaking free of that stare, Malik turned his head just enough to see the boy leaning forward across his desk. Instead of catching his eyes like expected, Malik realized the boy wasn’t staring at him but… his book? Turning his attention back to the latest book he was reading, Malik finished the page as fast as he could before turning the page. Almost immediately, he heard a creak as the boy sat back in his seat and sighed. Two soft thwacks and a whispered breath sounded in the silence and Malik finally registered what the boy was doing. Blinking down at the black text, Malik stifled a small smile. Was the kid trying to read the books the entire time? That would explain why the stare always faded so quickly after it started… It would also explain why he had yet to receive any questions about his arm. Not that many people brought it up often. Most people preferred to just stare at the empty sleeve where an arm should be and pretend as if they didn’t notice. A quick glance behind him showed that the boy was already back in his textbook with a newfound fervor. Shaking his head, Malik went back to his book. Although the chances were higher that the kid was staring at him, Malik suddenly felt sure it was actually his books attracting attention. Smiling down at the book, Malik decided to figure out if he was right or not.

* * *

 

Day 24: Friday

In order to test his theory (that Altair would _not_ hear about _ever_ ) Malik waited until he was in class to start a new book. Calm as ever, Malik cracked open the book and leaned off to the side rather than hunching over the book as he usually did. The stare raised the hairs on Malik’s neck like it usually did, but it didn’t irk him as much as usual. Once Malik finished the first page he tried to glance back at the boy without getting caught, and found chocolate brown eyes squinting down at the small print. Once he was sure the kid was done, Malik turned the page and read through as fast as he could so he could turn back to that curious stare and observe longer. Back and forth Malik went for a few more pages before he decided to read the book at his regular speed. It would seem suspicious if he suddenly slowed down enough for the kid to keep up. As expected, the stare let up as soon as the boy couldn’t keep up with Malik’s speed.

  
Malik shook his head at the story and felt his lips twitch up in an attempt to smile. It struck him as strange, of course, that the kid kept reading over his shoulder but it wasn’t the worst Malik had to suffer. Maybe he would bring one of his Robin Hobb books or Mercedes Lackey? Trudi Canavan’s Black Magician trilogy was pretty good too… Shaking his head, Malik asked himself why he was picking out books to introduce the kid to. It’s not like the kid would actually get to read all the way through the books. It was also a little strange to think of it like introducing the kid to the book if he was just secretly letting the kid read it over his shoulder. Suddenly very glad that he was smart enough not to tell Altair about the change in situation, Malik forced himself to focus on the book. He could think of what he would bring to read Monday later. For now, he was just getting into Lanen’s journeys.

* * *

 

Day 45: Friday

Since then, Malik made sure to slow down his reading bit by bit. As the end of the semester grew near, Altair began commenting on the fact that Malik was taking more than one day to read books that would just take him a few hours. Honestly, Malik didn’t care what Altair thought of it as he was more concerned with observing the boy. Rather than read himself, Malik began picking out books he wanted to recommend to the boy that sat behind him. Occasionally he would hear the scratch of his classmate’s pencil and he would take that to mean that he enjoyed the book. More than that, Malik paid careful attention to the boy’s expressions as he read. It was hard, of course, to watch the boy as he read without getting caught, but Malik was much more subtle than the boy. Unlike himself and Altair, the young man was expressive, and Malik could always tell exactly what he thought of what he was reading.

  
Malik took note of every shift in expression he could catch and accordingly picked books that better suited the new reader. Although, it seemed as though his strange reading companion wasn’t too picky with his literature. The kid would get into every new book just as easily as the rest, following along the story as long as he could. Although Malik couldn’t quite pinpoint why, the boy’s voracity made Malik eager to show him as many good books as he could. Opening the book to where he left off before class on Wednesday, and shifting to the side so the kid could see better as became habit, Malik frowned. Finals were next week, and with that the end of the semester. It wasn’t unusual for Malik to not make any friends throughout the semester, but somehow the idea of not knowing who the kid that looked like Altair was irritated him. Altair did not share Malik’s love of reading, and his list of books to show the kid had barely been touched. Lifting his eyes from the page he carefully watched as the young man that caught his attention was sucked into the story. After their hour and a half before class was over, Malik wouldn’t see his eyes light up as he got to follow the adventures of whatever character Malik introduced him to that day.

  
Turning the page for the kid, Malik couldn’t help but smile at the little twinges in expression the kid went through in just one page. In some way, although Malik didn’t know him, Malik felt like he was sharing these morning with the kid. They never spoke. Although he could sometimes feel the kid staring at him throughout class. There were a few times, too, when the kid would pause as he walked by, as if he was about to speak up to Malik. It was clear to Malik why he was scared to speak up, but Malik still had his own hang ups to worry about. What if they spoke and whatever camaraderie Malik felt with the kid came crashing down? What if, when the boy finally looked at Malik rather than past Malik, he could only stare at the empty sleeve pinned up? Pursing his lips, Malik turned the page without moving his eyes from the kid’s face. Before the… accident, Malik wasn’t particularly sociable, so there really wasn’t enough of a change for anyone to realize just how much that pinned up sleeve affected him.

  
Altair definitely didn’t know that this boy that sat quietly behind Malik throughout the semester was the first person in a long time that Malik wanted to talk to. The first person, in fact, since the accident. It was easy for Malik to pretend like he didn’t care, but he was quite aware of the fear that kept him from actually speaking to the kid. He turned the page again and the kid laughed quietly through his nose, barely louder than a breath. Malik looked at the page to see what was so funny and smiled himself. These quiet mornings spent poring over books were one of the few things Malik looked forward to. Should Altair ever find out about his cowardice, Malik would never hear the end of it. His fingers hesitated at the edge of the page. Could he? The kid’s eyebrows furrowed just the smallest bit as he waited for Malik to turn the page. He should turn it now, keep his silence. That was infinitely safer than the alternative. Would he?

  
Then, for the first time in the entire semester, those chocolate brown eyes met his own. It was strange seeing a face so similar to Altair’s turn bright red in embarrassment. In that split second, Malik learned that the kid’s blush reached to the tip of his ears. Malik stifled his smile under his usual blank mask.

* * *

 

Desmond figured that the stranger slowed down after midterms. It wasn’t sudden, but day after day Desmond was better able to grasp the stories the stranger read before class. The last day of class, discounting finals, came and still Desmond couldn’t muster up the courage to speak to the stranger. Just over three months of staring over the stranger’s shoulder actually tore down Desmond’s courage. The longer he took to admit to his honestly-very-weird habit made it that much harder. He had resigned himself to never seeing the stranger or his books again, so Desmond wrote down the name of this last book and tried to read as much as he could before class started. Barely a few pages in, the man took longer than usual to read. Desmond waited patiently for the page to turn but still nothing… Slowly, he lifted his gaze to look at the stranger, see if something was wrong with him, when he met the man’s almost black eyes for the first time. He was looking at him. Desmond felt his face heat up at getting caught.

  
Of course Desmond got caught the very last day of the semester. Just as Shaun (the annoying bastard) predicted, the man looks _pissed_. His dark, dark eyes are locked onto Desmond and his mouth is set into a firm line as Desmond stumbles over an apology, “S-s-sorry! I’m so sorry! I swear I didn’t mean to-um…” The man’s eyebrow quirked up as Desmond just trails off in mortification. The man closed the book gently like he always did but without averting his gaze from Desmond. This is the first time Desmond has actually _looked_ at the man, and _ohmyGodofcoursehe’shot_. He has a strong jaw shaded with light stubble and piercing black eyes that have Desmond averting his eyes and backing as far into his seat as he can go. Shaun will never let him live this down.

* * *

 

“No, my apologies. My name is Malik Al-Sayf.” Unlike Desmond’s, Malik’s voice is confident. The slight accent that rolls around Malik’s words has Desmond blushing harder. As the deepening blush spreads on Desmond’s face, Malik feels himself relax as his fears were alleviated. This man is nothing like the arrogant man Altair was. Desmond mutters out his own name in response and Malik nods at him with a smile. Then, they became stuck at an impasse. Neither man knew how to further the stilted conversation, both afraid to admit to the truth of how they spent every morning that semester. Altair’s voice in Malik’s head goaded him and Malik gritted his teeth before baring the truth to Desmond. “I’ve noticed.”

  
“Wait what?” Desmond looked absolutely horrified as Malik spoke up again. Even Lucy is going to torture him with this. Responsible Lucy. Hiding his face in his hands, Desmond asked Malik, “How long?”

  
Malik kept his eyes trained on Desmond, unable to resist the small pleasure at the changes in Desmond’s expressions. Although he would never act on such thoughts, Malik found himself wanting to pull Desmond’s hands away from his face and tell him exactly what he thought of Desmond’s blushing. Licking his lips, Malik pushed the thoughts away and answered, “Mid-October.” Desmond groaned through his palms as he realized that matched up with when Malik began slowing down. “I’ve been…” Hearing Malik’s voice trail off, Desmond looked up to see Malik give him a somewhat ashamed look, “I’ve been watching you read.” That look, more than the words, brought a smile to Desmond’s face. Between the two of them, Desmond thought he was the one who should be ashamed. It was rude of him to just read over Malik’s shoulder, but Malik actually slowed down for Desmond.

  
Grinning past his embarrassment, Desmond shook his head. “Sorry. Can we start over?” He waited a moment for Malik’s small answering smile. “Hi, my name’s Desmond. That book looks pretty interesting, what’s it about?” Taking the peace offering, Malik shook Desmond’s proffered hand.

  
“I’m Malik. It’s about a young man who wants to be a knight but instead begins training as a ranger.” The rest of their hour went by faster than usual as they talked about the books Malik brought to class throughout the semester and little tidbits of themselves. Before Vidic came in they finally exchanged phone numbers.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope someone else thinks this is cute. Let me know what you guys think though. I kind of had fun with the whole Day 1... Day 45 thing. I have another prompt I want to do as a sequel to this one. Maybe. No promises because I suck at actually writing.


End file.
